Chapter six!

"You open it."

"No, you open it."

"No, YOU open it."

"You ordered it, eh"

"Damnit." Nunavut watched the argument from his perch on the couch, where he had happily resumed chewing of his rawhide bone. He was perfectly calm, despite the tension that (I swore) was poisoning the air. Then again, he had nothing to lose from the contents of the second box (what was I supposed to do with TWO of these things?) that now filled my living room.

I slowly flipped through the manuel to find the section on waking, trying to procrastinate as much as possible. The first option didn't seem too bad. I DID need to learn to cook something besides pasta. Then again, I had the relative attention span of a squirrel…Option two seemed interesting, since Matthew WAS right here…and Option three was out of the question, so Two became my Plan B.

Option Four: Open the box, introduce yourself, and pray you don't get raped.

…..yeah, no.

I closed the manual with a small sigh. "….Matthew, please get the Bisquick out of the pantry. We've got pancakes to make." The Canadian nodded, having read the manuel over my shoulder. Which wasn't hard. Stupid 4-5 inch difference.

"Option three. Good choice." He moved the few steps to my kitchen. I suddenly realized just how small my apartment was. It was a two bedroom, but there were only three beds…two singles and a double. Then there was the couch, and an air mattress….so assuming the double and air mattress each had two people, and we used the couch was a bed, I had….sleeping room for seven people, including myself.

Uh oh. How many units was I going to get?

Canada let me panic about this fact for a good ten minutes, taking his time with the pancakes before pulling the maple syrup out of the refrigerator. He raised an eyebrow, quietly impressed.

"You have the real stuff, eh?" He smiled quietly. I took this opportunity to switch my train of thought.

"Yep. My parents own a summer house on Lake Huron. The closest town is twenty miles from the St. Lawrence Locks. Every summer, we would take a trip across the boarder." I dropped the manuel on the couch beside Nunavut, who was licking up the last remnants of his rawhide bone, and joined Matthew in the kitchen. "I can't go for a while, obviously, but Mom always sends a bottle in the care packages." I grinned. "The bubble wrap is amusing, too," Canada smirked, then pushed a plate into my hands.

"Here you go, eh." I made a face at his laughing at my soon-to-be misfortune.

"Don't gimme that look. It's you he's gonna be after." Hah. Take that, sly smirk. Turning back to the matter at hand, I edged toward the box carefully and set the plate down on the empty box still sitting on the floor from Matthew's arrival a few hours prior. I shuffled back a few steps and waited. I didn't actually have a fan, and didn't want to stand too close, but hopefully, the AC system would-

"Mon petit Mathieu~!" The box rattled. "Where are you~!" I shuffled back behind Canada, who started a little at the familiar nickname.

"I-I'm right here, papa…." Awww! He called him papa! My inner fangirl did a cartwheel. Maybe this was good after all. The top of the box finally popped off, and France quickly sat up, tossing the lid aside as he bounced out of the box and took the two steps needed to encase Canada in an alarmingly tight (and perhaps too affectionate - but I'm not policing) hug.

"There you are! Ah, mon petit, it iz so good to see you again!" France gushed happily. Canada blushed, halfheartedly trying to wriggle away.

"Papa.." He whined softly. I giggled. This caused France's attention to shift to me.

"Ah! And who is zis lovely lady?" I blinked, suddenly finding my hand in his, and feeling lips against my knuckles. Well. This was new.

"P-papa, this is Miss Rhoads. She's our host, eh…" Canada supplied. France smiled and Dear God (or Mon Dieu, in this case) was it sexy.

"A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Miss Rhoads." He smiled, rolling the 'R' just so. I giggled again. His personality was just a tad too romantic for my tastes, but I was 5'1" and 208lbs. If he wanted to make me feel special then damnit I was gonna enjoy it!

"Papa, why don't you unpack, eh? There's a bed all ready for you." So long, special moment. France turned back to Canada, and I pouted. But only a little bit.

"Ah, of course, mon petit." He sidled up beside the Canadian, smiling and suddenly holding one of the roses from his smaller box. When the hell had he grabbed that? "This is such a small living space….I don't' suppose we…share a room?" Canada's face turned bright red at the tone.

Too cute. WAY too cute. Like, 'where-the-hell-is-my-camera-when-I-need-it' cute. Seriously, where was it? This was GOLD! As I looked around, however, I spotted something else that made my yaoi-induced good mood plummet.

"NUNAVUT! YOU ATE MY MANUEL!"

Damnit, we needed that thing...